I just got back from a vacation in Russia. I had never been overseas so I was excited and nervous at the same time. The flight was ten hours from Chicago. Our hotel looked fabulous…on the internet. It was built in 1980 and all the athletes stayed there during the Olympics. The hotel has not been updated since then. The rooms looked like dorms with twin beds and minimal furniture. My mattress had springs that left marks, but I didn’t care that first day. We lost nine hours and since it didn’t get dark until 10pm, and since I left my phone and my watch at home, I completely lost all track of time. I brought no preconceived notions with me either about what to expect, except Chris Boylan from the office told me to hold on to my jeans because he read somewhere that Americans were getting mugged for them. Anyway, I thought the old churches were gorgeous with gilded gold on the cupolas. New construction of modern, mirrored sky scrapers saturates their up-and-coming financial district. But for every magnificent structure, there are twenty dingy and decrepit apartment buildings. It reminded me of neighborhoods shown on TV where you wouldn’t want to be after dark. Streets were there long before democracy and now that Russians are more able to afford cars, the traffic congestion bleeds through every nook and cranny of Moscow. I had heard that there was a heavy presence of the mafia there. Although I personally can not confirm this, the number of ridiculously expensive cars interspersed throughout the city would indicate the probability. For those who don’t have the patience for the traffic, the metro is amazing. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Moscow has the longest escalators in the world. You feel like you are defying gravity when heading down deep into the bowels of the city. It feels like an eternity to get to the underground stations. Once there, you are greeted with gorgeous chandeliers, stained glass, marble floors and interesting artwork. Our guide told us that each station is just as beautiful as the one we saw. I can’t tell you about Russia without mentioning the people. They speak very little English, if at all. The guys sport mullet haircuts (some with tails), tight pants and slim shoes. The gals wear very tight pants or skirts with high heels. They listen to our music and their magazines have our movie stars on the covers. They park their cars on the sidewalks, in the middle of an intersection or wherever they can literally find a spot. The public does not smile (even if you smile at them first). They are amused when you try to say something in their language, and everybody there is skinny as a rail. I took a picture of the Levi’s store there to show Chris that jean theft isn’t a problem. I can’t imagine our jeans would ever fit them anyway. Since fashion is cyclical, I can’t tell if they are thirty years behind or ten years ahead of us. I certainly hope we don’t have to live through another round of mullets here. (I giggle when I think of the guys in our office with Billy Ray Cyrus hair.) Coming home I stayed awake 23 hours so I could try and get acclimated to the time here. Though exhausted, I can’t tell you how great it felt to get off the plane in St. Louis. It was quite an amazing opportunity to visit a place on the other side of the world, but there really is no place like home (and a comfortable mattress).